


i can count on you to take your time

by seungsiks (galacticnik)



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Seungwoo and Subin are brothers, side Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticnik/pseuds/seungsiks
Summary: Chan doesn’t take Subin’s numerous and varied declarations of love seriously because they’re obviouslynotreal. His friends are convinced otherwise.
Relationships: Heo Chan/Jung Subin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 87
Collections: VICFEST®—round two!





	i can count on you to take your time

**Author's Note:**

> **for prompt #416:** Subin has been repeating to anyone he likes Chan for so long the other thinks he's only kidding or messing with him (spoiler alert: he's not).
> 
> this was a pretty late/hurried entry, but i loved the prompt and really wanted to do something with it. to the prompter—i hope this does your prompt justice!!
> 
> to the vicfest mods—thank you for all the time, hard work, and, most importantly, passion you’ve put into this fest for the second time around!! you’re doing the lord’s work *chef’s kiss*

“I think we need to talk about the Subin thing,” Seungsik says delicately, or as delicately as he can manage to while fulfilling an order of a large triple half-sweet non-fat caramel macchiato for the dead-eyed student at the head of a mile long queue.

It's exam season, and as the undisputed best coffee shop on campus, the _Coffee Bean_ is busier than usual. Even _Hanse_ is here to help them wade through the crush of zombified students desperate for that energizing bean juice, and he's gone on record on several occasions to say that he “simply does not dream of a life of labour.” Chan’s not judging; sometimes it’s like that.

Luckily enough, all his classes this semester have required final projects rather than exams or Chan would also be one of the undead shuffling around campus around this time. His personal Hell Week is behind him; all he has to worry about these days is showing up on time for his shifts and figuring out where his favorite socks keep disappearing to.

So Chan is almost chipper in comparison to his struggling peers, which comes in handy for maintaining his sanity in a customer service job. Though he falls short of matching Seungsik’s slightly manic cheer—who _definitely_ has exams coming up, but manages to somehow radiate sunshine and good vibes despite that.

Must be the good dick he’s getting, Chan muses. If he was dating Seungwoo, he’d probably feel invincible too.

“What Subin thing?” Chan asks, scribbling a name down on a large iced Americano with four extra espresso shots and handing it to a first year who accepts it with a haunted sob.

Seungsik takes the next order with a dazzling smile plastered on his face before turning to Chan. The shadow of a frown lurks on his face. “The ‘Subin being in love with you’ thing,” he says, putting his hands on his hips.

Chan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Can we not?” It’s something of a running joke with their friend group—that Seungwoo’s younger brother, Subin, has a big, obvious crush on him. He’s heard variations of it ever since Subin started attending their university last year, but it’s been a thing pretty much his whole life.

He grew up two houses down from the Hans and spent most of his childhood running around the neighbourhood with Seungwoo. Subin began trailing after the two as soon as he was old enough, staring at the both of them like they’d hung the stars in the sky. That childhood attachment never really faded with age. Subin’s comfortable with Chan because he’s known him most of his life, and if he still looks at Chan with starry-eyed admiration… it’s probably out of habit. That’s all. 

Chan’s used to the teasing by now. He even finds it funny sometimes, but only when _everyone_ is actively participating. Seungsik approaching him one-on-one like this is unnerving, like they’re pushing the boundaries of the joke. 

Seungsik hesitates, weighing his next words carefully. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to give him a proper answer.” His tone is too serious for a lighthearted workplace chat, and it makes Chan instinctively stand up straighter, his mouth flattening into a neutral line. “You can’t keep stringing him along.”

“A proper answer to what?” No matter how hard he tries, he can’t figure out what the fuck Seungsik is talking about. Chan feels like he’s missing something. Several somethings, and none of his friends are particularly inclined to fill him in on _what_. 

“ _Chan_ ,” Seungsik says, exasperated.

“ _Seungsik_ ,” Chan shoots back, attempting to mimic his tone.

Seungsik studies him closely for a moment, then sighs and throws his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Just make sure to tell Seungwoo that I talked to you.” 

The fact that this has something to do with Seungwoo makes a lot more sense. Chan wants to protest being made messenger boy in whatever is going on between Seungsik and his boyfriend, but before he can open his mouth, Hanse claps his hands together, pulling Chan and Seungsik’s attention over to him. 

“If you two _ahjummas_ are done gossiping, we have shit to do? People to serve?” 

Chan whips his head around. The line at the counter seems to have tripled in the short amount of time he and Seungsik took their eyes off it. He groans as people start pushing forward with lifeless, desperate moans and outstretched hands. 

Seungsik’s customer service smile wavers. “Hanse,” he says evenly. “Call the cavalry.” 

Hanse blinks. “Whomst the f—”

“Sejun and Byungchan,” Chan says solemnly, dropping a hand on his shoulder. “ _Quickly_ , if you want to live.” 

While Hanse dials up their back up, Chan rolls his sleeves up to his elbows and trades a look of resignation with Seungsik before diving back into the task of pacifying the horde. 

* * *

One overwhelmingly busy shift later, an exhausted Chan shuffles back to his dorm room. He can’t wait to crash the minute he gets there. Maybe he’ll pass out until his next shift, if he’s lucky. It’s sort of a bleak picture of what the rest of his winter break routine is going to look like, but he can’t think of a better way to occupy his time besides sleeping it away. 

But things never really turn out as planned. Chan stumbles through the door to find Subin occupying his bed. He’s laying on his stomach with an array of textbooks and color-coded notes fanned out in front of him, taking up a surprising amount of space. He doesn’t even look up when Chan closes the door behind him.

“I want to ask how you got in here, but I also want to preserve the air of mystery surrounding you,” Chan says lightly, slipping off his shoes and dumping his bag on his desk. 

At the sound of his voice, Subin starts and jerks upright. The dark circles under his eyes give him a vaguely haunted look. His hair is unkempt, like he’s often been running his hands through it in frustration, and as a fellow architecture major, Chan understands his pain. It sucks, nothing makes sense, and exams are Satan’s invention. 

A sheepish smile spreads across Subin’s face as he pushes himself up into a sitting position and shuts his Environmental Design textbook. “My roommate was being distracting,” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck. “I needed a place to study and I knew—I mean, Seongwu sunbae is your roommate, so your passcode was _really_ easy to guess, hyung.” 

Of course it was. Stupid Daniel-loving fool. “Serves me right for letting Seongwu choose it. Who uses their dumb boyfriend’s dumb birthday as a passcode when the entire world knows that’s exactly the kind of dumb move you’re prone to pulling?” Since Seongwu isn’t here (probably off sucking face with the aforementioned Daniel), Chan aims a kick at his empty chair and ends up bruising his toes. 

“He’s in love,” Subin says, somewhat defensively. “I think it’s sweet.” He’s silent for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip, before admitting, “I actually tried my birthday first.” 

Grabbing a fresh shirt and pair of sweatpants to change into, Chan glances over at Subin in confusion. “Why?”

Subin’s mouth curves into a smile. “I wanted to see if _you_ were in love too, hyung.” For what it’s worth, he always sounds sincere, but Chan’s been hearing variations of it for so long that he rarely bats an eyelash at Subin’s words anymore. Coming from anyone else, they might have made his pulse quicken, but he had to force himself to become immune to Subin’s charm a while ago. 

_Mostly_ immune. Letting out a low chuckle, Chan crosses the room to ruffle Subin’s hair. “Cute,” he says fondly. Subin doesn’t pull away from his touch; instead, he leans into it, his eyes fluttering shut only to fly open as Chan pulls his hand away. He almost seems to glare reproachfully at the loss of contact. Chan’s reminded of his brother’s cat and its demands for affection.

 _Cute_ , he thinks again, then clears his throat. “You know,” he begins, gesturing to the textbook on the bed. “I took that course a couple of semesters ago. I could dig up my old notes for you.” He thumps his chest proudly. “Don’t worry, I did pretty well.” 

Subin’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really? Hyung, you’re a lifesaver.”

He wouldn’t go that far. “Anything for my adorable junior,” Chan says with a wink. Turning away, he pulls his shirt over his head and slips on the clean one. He can feel Subin’s stare settle between his shoulder blades like a familiar weight, intense and silently burning. 

It lasts a moment too long for it to be comfortable. He’s always acutely aware of Subin’s presence, but this particular moment feels unnaturally heavy. The grin on Chan’s face slips a bit as he slips out of his pants and into his sweats before turning back to Subin. 

Subin opens his mouth to say something, then snaps it shut and swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. Eventually, he opens his textbook once more and begins flipping through the pages with idle interest. Chan takes a seat on Seongwu’s bed, unsettled. 

“Sometimes I feel like you try to give the wrong idea on purpose,” Subin says after a pause, resolutely not looking at him. 

Chan frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Anything for me,” Subin repeats. “But I’m not special, right?” 

“Of course you’re special, Subinnie.” Chan feels like he fundamentally does not get Subin at times despite knowing him since he was a kid, and this is definitely one of those instances. He climbs to his feet and comes to stand at the foot of his bed. “You’ll always be special to me,” he continues, leaning down until he can look into Subin’s eyes to make him understand.

Unbidden, his hand reaches out to cup Subin’s cheek, only for Chan to think better of it at the last minute, his fingers curling inwards only a hair's breadth away from touching his skin.

Subin stares, dumbfounded, then lets out a watery exhale. “ _Uuuuughhhhhhh_ ,” he groans, drawing his knees to his chest and burying his face in them. “Chan hyung, I hate you.” The tips of his ears are a fiery red. 

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Really?” he asks in a lilting voice, and Subin his head to glare at him, though not very successfully.

“No,” he says, his expression dissolving into an exasperated smile. “But that just makes it worse.”

Laughing, Chan ruffles his hair again. His hands linger this time, fingers twining themselves in the silky brown strands, and Subin closes his eyes with a soft, wistful sigh, accepting the comfort. 

* * *

There’s a memory half-buried at the back of his mind. 

A six year old Subin holding a makeshift ring of twine out to him, his cheeks cherry-red. “I want to marry Chan hyung,” he said shyly, scuffing at the ground. 

Seungwoo, grinning, a perpetual enabler when he should have dissuaded him. “You’re probably the only one who would, Subin,” he said sagely, throwing an arm around Chan’s shoulder and pulling him close. 

Glaring, Chan wrenched himself free before accepting the ring with a soft smile. “Me too! It’s a promise, buddy,” he said, slipping it onto his finger with a flourish, and Subin raised his head and _beamed_. 

In retrospect, it probably started there. He doubts either Seungwoo or Subin remember the playground proposal now, but it laid the groundwork for the joke that’s been dogging them for most of their life—that Subin has a crush on him. 

Maybe there _was_ a time when Subin was in love with Chan, but he thinks it was more likely childish admiration. Chan was the fastest kid in his grade, the most fearless on the playground, and he always had a kind word to spare for Subin. When he thinks about it, Subin’s heart wasn’t the only one he captured back then, but the infatuations usually faded the older he got. 

But Subin’s stuck through elementary school and middle school, coming to halt only when Chan started dating Sooil in his second year of high school, up until graduation. Subin began avoiding him after that, only slipping back into his life when he began attending the same university as Chan and Seungwoo. 

He didn’t expect the teasing to return either, but then Subin drunkenly proclaimed that the #1 thing on his to-do list was to _steal! Chan’s! heart!!!_ during a department drinking party and word spread like wildfire. He didn’t seem all that bothered when Byungchan asked him about it the next day, simply leaning into the bit by shrugging and saying, “Yes, and? What about it?” 

It’s been a thing ever since then. Subin doesn’t seem to mind, fueling the teasing with his nonchalant responses, his insistence on sticking close to Chan, his sudden and casual, _I love yous_ and _what would I do without yous_ and _I can't stop thinking about you_ —

The first few times, Chan found himself caught off guard and a little flustered. The random declarations of love were different coming from an adult Subin as opposed to when he was a kid, but he quickly realized that Subin didn’t mean it. So any awkwardness on his part was his own problem, one he was determined to fix before it caused any damage to their relationship.

It was easier to remember how he used to respond once Chan accepted it all as an inside joke—lightly, without real feeling. But lately he feels like his nonchalant attitude is starting to annoy Subin, but Chan’s not sure why. He isn’t doing anything _differently_ , per se. 

He chalks it up to exam season stress and decides not to investigate it too deeply. 

* * *

As promised, Chan digs out his old notes and goes through them with a critical eye, making revisions as needed. His handwriting is downright incomprehensible at parts, and hindsight has helped clarify some of the murkier sections. He feels like he’s studying without actually having to study, but if it helps Subin, he doesn’t really mind. 

Absorbed in his work, he doesn’t hear Seongwu return to their room until he throws himself face-first on his bed and starts mumbling and whining into his pillow. Chan offers a placating, “That sucks,” without really paying attention. 

Seongwu lifts his head to look at Chan, possibly to chew him out for his lack of compassion, but his eyes fall on the study materials strewn over his desk. He quirks an eyebrow. “You’re really going above and beyond for this guy, huh?” he says, amused. “ _Plus Ultra_ and all that.”

Chan clicks his tongue. “Please stop watching anime with your boyfriend.”

“Nah, it’s our favorite couples’ activity.” Seongwu’s smile turns mischievous. “G-rated one, anyway.” Chan thinks he might actually throttle him if he goes further, but thankfully, he changes the subject. “So Subin?” He waggles his eyebrows. It’s very distracting. “Again?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seongwu shrugs, deliberately innocent. “Have you ever thought that maybe he seriously likes you?” 

_Ah_ , he thinks. So this is one of _those_ conversations. Chan feels like he’s had to field more than a few recently. His instinct is to always shut them down because he and Subin share so many mutual friends, but while Seongwu and Subin have met, they aren’t really close. He knows whatever he says will stay between him and Seongwu (and maybe Daniel). Reclining in his seat, he decides to be as honest as he can.

“Once,” he admits. Or twice. Maybe three times. How can he not wonder? But the impulse is always fleeting, the truth too obvious to ignore. “But then I decided that he didn’t.”

"You 'decided'?" Seongwu asks, putting air quotes around the word.

He taps his pen against the edge of his desk. “I’m not going to take advantage of a kid by forcing anything on him.” Subin’s too nice for his own good. If Chan asked for more, for something serious, he knows Subin will say yes because he cares about Chan and doesn’t want to hurt him. Chan doesn’t want to put him in a position where he feels like he has no choice but to accept Chan’s hypothetical feelings. 

Seongwu blinks. “Doesn’t that mean you like him?” he asks incredulously.

Chan stares at him like he’s grown a third head. “No?”

“But you just—you _directly_ implied that—“

"I don't think of him that way," he says, because he’s never allowed himself to, because the idea is hilarious and preposterous, and most importantly, because Subin hasn’t looked at him that way since elementary school. 

Seongwu looks unconvinced, but he doesn’t push the subject. 

* * *

Because he more or less knows Subin’s exam schedule (courtesy of Seungwoo, who takes the ‘doting, protective older brother’ role a bit too seriously), Chan braves the winter chill to meet up with him when his latest exam is scheduled to end, the notes he’d worked so hard on the night before tucked under his arm. 

“Brought you coffee,” he says, lifting the cup as Subin drags himself out of the room, looking ready to collapse at any moment. 

He accepts the steaming cup gratefully and brings it to his lips. “Shouldn’t you caffeinate me before my exam, not after?” he asks with a teasing smile, and Chan scratches his cheek guiltily with a gloved hand. 

“Yes, but in my defense, I was sleeping.” Chan meant to get up earlier, but fixing his notes had taken more energy out of him than he anticipated. “Also, what do you mean ‘caffeinate’ you? Are you a plant?”

“Yeah, I need coffee to grow,” Subin deadpans, before shaking his head. The cold brings out the pink in his cheeks, and Chan can’t help but find it extremely endearing. He reaches forward to fix Subin’s loosely looped scarf and feels him stiffen under Chan’s attention, his breathing shallow. It returns to normal as Chan steps away, satisfied with his handiwork. “A—Anyway,” Subin continues, coughing and avoiding Chan’s eyes. “What brings you out here, hyung?”

“Oh, right.” Chan pulls out the folder of his notes and holds it out to Subin, who accepts it gingerly with a look of confusion on his face. “I told you I’d give you my old notes from Environmental Design. Some of them were in pretty bad shape, so I looked over everything last night and fixed ‘em up. I ended up adding some extra material too, so I think it should cover everything you need to know.”

Subin looks down at the product of a hard night’s work and swallows. “Hyung…” he trails off, his voice wavering. 

“Before you say anything, _yes_ , I had to, and it really wasn’t a big deal. You know I’m always happy to help you out.” Subin’s mouth thins into a crooked line at his words. Burying his face into his scarf, he mumbles something under his breath, but the wool muffles his words. 

“Come again?” Chan asks.

Subin huffs and frees his mouth. “Hyung,” he says clearly, eyes still on the folder. “I love you.” 

“Hm?” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’re going to make me blush, Subin.”

For a minute, the only sound between them is of the snow crunching underneath their boots. Then Subin sighs, his shoulders sagging. “Just once, I wish you wouldn’t brush me off like you always do,” he says tersely. 

Chan isn't sure if he understands what Subin means, but he clearly sounds upset. “What do you mean ‘brush you off’?” he asks, brows furrowing. 

“I mean, act like I’m not serious or like my feelings for you are a joke when all I’ve ever been is genuine and sincere when I tell you I love you over and over and _over_ again—“

“W—what?” This has to be another joke, but not one Chan is in on. Not one he finds particularly funny either. But Subin looks like he’s about to erupt, on the verge of angry tears at the sight of Chan’s dumbfounded expression. He tries to school his face into something less aggravating, but his bewilderment persists. “You don’t really mean that, do you?” 

“I tried not to.” Subin comes to a halt, his foot kicking a stray clump of snow lying on the path. “I really did. I thought one day I’d stop being in love with you and things would be alright again, but every year it just gets worse and _worse_ until I start wondering if I’m going to feel like this for the rest of my life.” Subin draws in a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I just wanted to confess seriously so I could be confident I did everything I could.” Pausing, he chuckles dryly and tips his head back. “It’s like ripping off a band-aid, you know? Burns, but then you can heal.”

Chan matches his chuckle with one of his own, trying to ignore the nausea building up in his stomach. “I don’t think confessing your love should be painful? I don’t have a ton of experience, but I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to hurt?” 

Subin absentmindedly clutches the folder to his chest, his gaze drawn to Chan’s neat deliberately neat writing. “It hurts,” he says flatly. “Like hell.”

Chan doesn’t know how to respond to that. His head swims as he frantically flips through over a decade’s worth of memories, now viewing them in a new light. His instinctual response is to cling onto the fiction of the joke, of _it’s not real_ and _Subin doesn’t mean it_ , but the raw vulnerability in Subin’s eyes convinces him otherwise. 

Subin loves him. Subin _actually_ loves him. 

God, he’s the biggest clown of them all, isn’t he? 

Silence settles between them, dragging on long enough that the people passing by give them odd looks. Chan clears his throat, then clears it again, unsure of what to say. “For what it’s worth,” he says finally, “I hear you loud and clear this time. Can I just—can I have some time to process this? Before I give you any kind of answer.” 

Subin’s laugh is brittle, his eyes clouded. “You don’t have to give me an answer either, hyung. I didn’t confess expecting you to return my feelings. I’m fine like this. I’ve always been fine with just this.” He lifts a shoulder and drops it. “I’ve had a lifetime’s worth of practice. I taught myself not to expect more.” 

“Subin,” Chan says weakly, but he’s not sure what he’s trying to say. All he knows is that seeing Subin hurt because of _him_ feels awful. 

Shaking his head, Subin forces a smile. “I better head back and hit the books.” He taps the cover of the folder. “Thanks for this, hyung. Have a good break.” He hesitates as if he wants to say more, then turns away with a tired frown and speeds up. 

Chan waits for him to look back, because Subin _always_ looks back at him, his expression screaming that he doesn't want to leave Chan behind, but he doesn't this time. Shivering, Chan watches until Subin completely disappears from view and wonders where they're both supposed to go from here.

* * *

He digs into his dual purpose underwear-and-sock drawer when he returns to his room and pulls out a rolled up pair of rainbow-patterned socks. Wrapped inside them is the makeshift twine ring Subin gave him all those years ago. It’s on the verge of falling apart and is too small for his thick fingers, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to fit it on one.

After a few minutes of struggle, Chan spreads his fingers out and stares at the fraying twine balanced precariously on the tip of his ring finger. “I should’ve believed you, huh?” he says, smiling sardonically.

The ring doesn’t answer. With a sigh, Chan wraps it back up in his socks and tucks it away. 

* * *

“You’re going to accept his feelings, aren’t you?” Seungwoo stands over Chan with a baseball bat in his hands, and Chan audibly gulps as Seungsik quickly wedges himself between the two. 

“Seungwoo, put the baseball bat down,” he says soothingly, and Seungwoo blinks, confused.

“I wasn’t going to hit him with it? I’m just organizing my closet.” He sets the baseball bat down at the foot of his bed, where, admittedly, his other baseball equipment is lying. Chan lets out a very obvious sigh of relief and shifts away from him, just in case.

They’re gathered in Seungwoo and Seungsik’s shared room because Chan is in desperate need of advice and is even willing to sit through the inevitable ‘I told you so’s and ‘you’re an idiot’s in order to pick his friends’ brains on this. He deserves it. He deserves worse, actually. 

It still doesn’t seem real. Subin is in love with him. Has been since that day he was six and mustered up the courage to ask Chan for his heart, and Chan promised to give it to him with no real intention of following through. He can see the same pattern repeated throughout the years: Subin going out on a limb, and Chan laughing in his face.

“But you are?” Seungwoo prompts again. Seungsik returns to his chair and waits for his answer, drumming his fingers on his knees.

“I don’t know,” Chan says, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I mean, it’s Subin, right? But it’s _Subin_.” 

"I have no idea what that means.” Seungwoo glances over at his boyfriend. “Seungsik, can you translate?"

Seungsik straightens up in his seat and makes a show of clearing his throat. “He’s trying to say that he doesn’t know how to feel about this since it’s Subin, but he’s also saying that if there’s anyone he could see himself liking, it would be Subin.” 

“Interesting,” Seungwoo says, sounding like he doesn’t get what Chan is trying to say at all. Which is fine, because Chan doesn’t really know what he feels either. 

Seungsik pretty much understands his dilemma. It’s Subin, so even entertaining the idea of returning his feelings seriously seems like a betrayal of their friendship, of their carefully maintained status quo, but Chan would be lying if he said he hasn’t been thinking about what it would be like to date Subin since the day he realized Subin meant every word he’s been saying.

It’s too much all at once. His brain is fried. 

Seungsik and Seungwoo are both still looking at him expectantly. Chan tries to untangle the knot his thoughts have tangled themselves in. “I’ve spent so much time aggressively convincing myself that Subin doesn’t actually like me and that I don’t like him that way. I have no clue how to respond now that I know he does.” 

“What does your heart say?” Seungwoo asks, straight-faced. Chan lets his hands fall to his sides and looks at him in disbelief, but he doesn’t flinch from his stare. “I know it’s cheesy, but forget about everything else. Don’t think about the past or the future; just focus on what you feel about him now.” 

“My heart says fuck-all,” Chan replies. “My heart says I don’t deserve him.”

“Check your self-deprecation at the door,” Seungsik says immediately, trading a look with Seungwoo. “Try again.”

Chan’s not sure if this tight sensation in his chest is heartburn or Subin-related, but he doesn’t think he’ll have an answer to Seungwoo’s question soon. He casts around for some way to deflect. “How did you know you liked Seungsik?” he asks finally, hoping it’ll take the attention off him for a second.

Seungwoo sighs. He knows exactly what Chan is doing, but refrains from calling him out on it. “He was the only person at a party who laughed at my jokes,” he says after a long pause, glancing over at Seungsik with a soft smile. “And I just… decided that I wanted to be the one who made him laugh like that for as long as he’d let me.” He reaches out to touch Seungsik’s cheek, and Seungsik flushes but returns his smile. 

“Oh,” Chan says. It’s that simple, huh? He thinks of Subin’s bright smile and feels the corners of his lips twitch. _Oh_ , he thinks again. That _is_ helpful. 

“You can take your time to figure it out,” Seungsik says, breaking Chan out of his reverie. “Don’t take forever, but you don’t have to come up with an answer right this minute.” 

“I feel like I kind of do,” Chan says, eyeing Seungwoo dubiously.

Seungwoo gives him an enigmatic smile and hefts his baseball bat again. “I just wanted to make it clear that I will not be happy if you break Subin’s heart.” 

“Are you moving that somewhere else?” Seungsik asks. 

“What?” Seungwoo tilts his head to the side. “No, I’m threatening to break Chan’s kneecaps.” 

Chan bolts up and inches towards the door. “I’m going to go before my kneecaps are in real danger,” he says, swallowing thickly. “But…” he stops at the door and gives Seungwoo and Seungsik a grateful smile. “Thanks for the help.” 

Seungwoo smiles, and Seungsik gives Chan a thumbs up from behind Seungwoo’s back. “That’s what we’re here for!” he says cheerfully. “Good luck, Chan!” 

* * *

Chan knows Subin’s usual haunts like the back of his hand. When he stops to think about it, he’s been paying too much attention to Subin for a long time. It goes beyond just looking out for him on Seungwoo’s behalf, especially since Seungwoo isn’t dead and can do that himself. Chan _likes_ spending time with Subin, naturally gravitates towards him without meaning to, thinks about him when they’re not together.

He’d convinced himself that much was normal for a friendship, but it’s really not. Chan can’t recall when the shift took place, but his relationship with Subin has been hovering between more than friends but less than lovers for a while now. The only thing holding them back was Chan’s obliviousness and his unwillingness to take Subin seriously. 

Not for much longer, he hopes.

As predicted, Chan finds Subin in a study cubicle on the third floor of the Engineering building. The floor is more or less deserted this time of the year, and Subin is the only one occupying the space, his eyes drooping as he scans through some documents.

Chan approaches him carefully and lightly taps him on the head before dropping into the chair beside him. “Hey,” he says, nudging his chair with his foot. “Working hard?”

“Hyung!” Subin flushes at the sight of him, a smile instinctively curving at his lips before he remembers how they’d left off last time. His expression dims, and he eyes Chan warily like he isn’t sure of what his intentions are. Which, Chan admits, is something he deserves after the mess that was their last conversation. 

He tries to look non-threatening. “How’s the studying going?”

“I just have one last exam to give.” Subin hesitates, then touches a stack of familiar looking papers. “Your notes are helping.” 

“Good.” Chan was half-worried that Subin had burned them in a fit of pique or something, but he should’ve known Subin would never. “Do you have time to talk for a second, or should I find you after your exams are done?”

“Huh?” Subin looks even more nervous at his words, picking at the edge of his notebook. “I guess I can talk. I was meaning to take a break anyway.” 

“Okay.” Despite the fact that he started the conversation, Chan flounders. It’s one thing to run mental simulations of how he wants this to go, and another to actually sit here in front of Subin with the knowledge that Subin is in love with him but doesn’t expect anything in return. 

There’s something profoundly sad about that. Chan knows this problem is one of his making, but the thought that Subin was— _is_ —prepared to love him one-sidedly for however long because he never thought Chan would _return_ his feelings makes him want to cry. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. Your confession,” he clarifies, and Subin flinches, rocking back in his chair. “And about how I’ve made you wait a long time for—well, _everything_. I didn’t mean to, I can promise you that, but my intentions don’t really change things, do they?” 

“I know you weren’t pretending to be dense on purpose, hyung.” Subin’s voice is soft and conciliatory. Chan takes it as a good sign. 

“Right. I’m dense for real.” His words pull a small smile from Subin, and he relishes it. “I think… part of me did suspect you weren’t just playing along with the joke, but I was afraid of you being serious about this—serious about me.” 

Subin frowns. “Why would that—”

“As long as _you_ weren’t serious, I didn’t have to be serious either.” It’s weird vocalizing feelings he’s left unsaid and unexamined for so long. Chan shifts uncomfortably in his seat and steels himself. “I didn’t have to seriously think about us being together or what would even mean. What that would change.” He exhales and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know—there’s all this weighty stuff that comes with romance and relationships that I’m not great with.” 

He should probably count himself lucky that Subin is willing to hear out his rambling with unflagging patience. Subin takes some time to consider Chan’s words before asking, “So did that change?” 

“Yeah.” Chan swallows. “I realized that I was more scared of hurting you than I was of any kind of change. I realized that I was treating your feelings like a joke because the alternative meant that there was a chance I could _lose_ you if things didn’t work out or if I fucked up and I didn’t want that, but that apprehension isn’t as strong as my fear of never getting to be with you.”

Subin’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ of surprise, his eyes shaking under the force of Chan’s admission. 

“So I guess I like you too.” Chan freezes as an image of Seungwoo and his baseball bat flashes through his mind. “Sorry, wait, that was lukewarm. What I _want_ to say is that, I love you too, Subin.”

The silence between them is strange. Chan’s palms start to sweat as he waits for Subin to give him some kind of response, but the younger man only stares at him, gaping, as if he’s having trouble absorbing whatever he’s hearing. Finally, he sits back in his chair and looks down at his hands like they hold the answers he’s looking for. 

“I can’t believe this,” he says, mostly to himself, then looks up with a steely glint in his eyes. “It’s _literally_ unbelievable. What do you even like about me, hyung?”

“Uh.” Chan isn’t prepared for an interrogation. “You’re needy, and a little bit of a brat, and sometimes you’re not cute at all—”

“Are you sure you actually like me?” Subin interrupts, his voice pitching high.

“ _But_ ,” Chan says loudly. “I like when you cling to me, and when you want my help. I like seeing you smile and I think I want to be the one you’re smiling at for as long as possible.” It’s that simple, and he sends a silent thank you to Seungwoo and Seungsik. “I meant it when I said you’re special; I don’t do all that for just anyone.” 

“Oh.” Subin is quiet and contemplative. Fingers splayed on the surface of the table, he chews on his bottom lip and closes his eyes before snapping them open. “What does this mean, then?” he asks hesitantly. “What do you want, hyung?”

The answer to that is simple. “You,” Chan says easily, then winces. “Or was that cheesy?”

Subin holds back a grin. “You already have me,” he says. Tentatively, slowly, his hand inches forward to grasp Chan’s with a surprising amount of strength. “You always have.” 

He gives Subin’s hand a squeeze. “If I’m cheesy, you’re worse,” Chan snickers, then glances around. “Do you see anyone else around?”

Subin dutifully casts a glance around. “No. Why?” Before he can question it further, Chan leans forward and kisses Subin—it’s a small, soft peck, still at the starting line, but when he pulls away, Subin touches a hand to his lips in wonder, flushing pink, and Chan thinks that this is a sight he won’t get tired of seeing anytime soon. 

“Hyung,” Subin hisses, once he’s regained his bearings. “What if someone saw us?” 

“That’s why I asked you if anyone was hanging around!”

“You’re a menace,” Subin says affectionately. 

“Menacingly in love with you?” Okay, that sounded more ominous than cute. With his free hand, Chan rubs his face and sighs. “That wasn’t my best. I’ll work on it.”

"I like you in spite of it." When he brings his hand back down, Subin’s looking at him, still in wonderment, still in bewilderment, still like he’s afraid any second Chan will say, “ _I’m kidding! This was all an elaborate prank!”_ But the longer they sit here hand-in-hand, Chan’s warmth seeping into Subin as the trade smiles, the more the confusion fades into something softer, something more hopeful.

“Thanks for putting up with me for so long,” Chan says eventually. “You’re the only one who would.” Seungwoo didn’t lie all those years ago. He doubts anyone but Subin is really cut out for this.

“I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before,” Subin says. “But it’s always been you, hyung. I would’ve waited forever.”

“No more waiting.” Chan pulls him in for another kiss. 

Subin doesn’t protest. “No more waiting,” he agrees, his eyes fluttering shut.

The feeling bubbling in Chan’s chest as they kiss—fireworks, volcanic eruptions, orchestras, and everything in between—is not a joke. He doesn’t know how he could’ve ever thought it was. 

He wonders what his childhood self would say about this. Chan has a feeling that his eight year old self knew they’d end up like this.

He’d kept the ring, after all, and intended to keep the promise too.

”Hyung, what are you grinning about?” Subin asks once he pulls away.

”Old memories.” Chan swipes his thumb over his lip. “The first time you said you loved me. I think I believed you back then, but got lost somewhere along the way after that. I’m good now, though,” he adds, catching Subin’s eye. “I found my way back.”

”I guess you really did,” Subin says quietly, giving his hand another squeeze. “Welcome back.” He beams at him happily, and Chan thinks that _yeah,_ he wants to be the one to make him smile like that forever.

* * *

* * *

* * *

"Hey," Chan says conversationally. "Did you know you proposed to me once?"

“What?” Subin starts, almost spilling his coffee down the front of his shirt. With exam season having come to an uneventful end, the _Coffee Bean_ is completely empty. Chan doesn’t bother keeping his voice down, knowing the only other person here is Hanse and he’s too busy trying to sext Dongyeol to pay attention. 

“I don’t remember,” Subin says after a heavy pause, his nose scrunched as he tries to pick apart his memories to find what Chan is talking about. 

“When you were six,” Chan says smugly. “Gave me a cute little ring and everything.” He doesn’t add that he kept the cute little ring with him because he’s sentimental like that. 

Subin pouts. “It’s not fair that I don’t have any memory of this,” he says, his tone just short of a whine, and Chan chuckles into his hand at the sight. He leans over the table and steals a quick kiss, his mouth lingering against Subin's for a moment too long. 

“I’ll make sure you don’t forget next time,” he murmurs. 

“Next time?” Subin asks, blinking at him with reddening cheeks. “Hyung, are you joking?”

Chan doesn’t reply, just laughs and kisses Subin again, hard enough to banish any further questions.

Maybe this can be their next inside joke. Chan secretly hopes it’ll end just as nicely as the old one did. 

**Author's Note:**

> this one’s for **i** because ily and also for **k** , my partner in all things chanbin. without y’all i literally would not have made it ❤️


End file.
